


Feathery Friends

by ThatRandomFail



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders-centric, Caring Logic | Logan Sanders, Gen, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sympathetic Dark Sides (Sanders Sides), Whump, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRandomFail/pseuds/ThatRandomFail
Summary: Virgil could never groom himself and was glad to put it off until the dark sides did it for him. But now, he can’t turn to them. Or the light sides… Virgil needs help.Wing fic because there's not enough of them!
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton & Thomas Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders





	Feathery Friends

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this more in the mind of them being just really close friends but I’m not going to be offended if you read this as LAMP or whatever! T.W DISCUSSION OF ILLNESS. Doesn’t get that medical or anything and is about wings but in case that creeps you out! 

Virgil let out an angry groan before flinging himself backwards on his bed. His wings spread out around him in a dramatic explosion of feathers. They twitched harshly as pain rocketed up them. Suddenly crashing on top of them maybe wasn’t his brightest idea. The feathers poked and clashed against themselves, his shoulders blades bloomed into a dull ache and his wing tips curled. They looked like a mess. They felt like a mess. He could almost feel the grease and dust settling between the feathers and the messy feathers themselves felt like nails on a chalkboard. 

Maybe this was all just his recent lack of sleep… This wasn’t a big deal. Roman wouldn’t even be this upset over wings! 

But Virgil felt tears sting past his self control. He wanted to curl under his covers and pretend they didn’t exist. But he already knew folding them up would be too much pain. He just wanted to sit there and sob. Virgil needed help. 

It felt like everything was built up against him. Self care was never really his thing. But even if it was, it was impossible to reach the back of his wings. Grooming yourself always takes so much longer, it was too easy to twist yourself up into painful cramps. So everything had to be done so slowly. Not that any of that mattered, he was never good at grooming anyway, to add on top of it all. 

Remus and Janus both took extreme pride in their wings and, upon seeing his ragged wings, immediately took responsibility for his. Dark sides had to be uniform. They had to appear united against them all. Pristine gorgeous wings added to that appearance of power, superiority and control. 

Virgil laughed. 

All of them standing there like members of an edgy boy band. Remus’ and Janus’ wings arched high above them with his own folded but puffed against his back. Like he was trying to make himself look casual but also big and threatening at the same time. Remus’ brown wings spread with the sleek diamond of green glinting like an eye, almost blending in with Janus’ own mostly brown wings. His black wings cutting through the middle. All beautifully uniform and sharp. 

Memories… but memories stopped with the heavy pain weighing down his wings. 

Instead he had to form a plan, just like Logan would! His wings had hurt before, maybe not this bad but this wasn’t completely new. Leaving them stretched out usually helped. 

Okay. He’ll wait… an hour or so until the pain fades then he will get ready for the day. If he spent all day in his room then Patton would eventually get worried. Make an appearance downstairs, talk or something, then he can disappear back upstairs. Then he can groom them as best as he can… Okay, that’s somewhat a plan?

If that doesn’t work then… Virgil grimaced but the only option would be to turn to Janus and hope that he didn’t hold a grudge- despite the absolute fact he always holds grudges close to his heart. 

See, a plan! Doesn’t that make him feel… better…

Virgil closed his eyes and waited for the pain to subside. Emptying his mind, he plugged in his headphones and prepared to try and distract himself. Seeing if he could remember all the words, guessing the song and album by just the opening notes. Deep breaths…

It was an hour later that he finally could bare the thought of putting on his jumper over the top of his tightly folded wings. He was the only one who hid his wings but hiding them wasn’t always bad. Sometimes Patton hid his wings if he knew that they would get in the way in the kitchen and Roman had made a habit of hiding his wings during performances he was nervous for. No one was going to make a fuss at him for hiding his wings. It was all going to go to plan. 

Virgil thumped downstairs but froze on the final step. 

Patton was lying on the floor, blanketed by a fuzzy red blanket, with Roman and Logan sitting by each wing. Virgil tried to tear his gaze from Patton’s grey speckled wings. They looked plain when all folded but when he stretched them out, the white streaks running along the front of each and every feather seemed to capture the light. Light curling around each feather like it was a shiny metal rather than fluffy feathers. They were striking but not to the point where they made you feel inferior or bad about your wings. They looked like a beautiful home. Breath-taking but somehow also welcoming and warm. Roman’s fingers carefully threaded through his feathers in broad streaks while Logan’s hand curled around a specific feather to slowly straighten it and smooth the fronds. 

Just his luck…

“Heya Virge! How are you?” Patton perked up and tried to sit up before Logan grouchily guided him back down. Patton’s wings shuffled before settling back to lying flat. Like they were melting under a heat lamp. Utterly boneless. Relying completely on their hands to hold them up. Virgil doesn’t think his wings have ever looked like this. He fought back the wince as they twitched harshly against his jumper. 

“Uh, hey. Just… grabbing some food.” Virgil’s own wings trembled in jealousy, in pain, in every bad emotion. They felt heavier. He could feel each knotted mat. “Didn’t realise it was grooming day!” 

“I think I’m going to start moulting soon, this time we’re trying to groom them just before to see if it makes it easier to deal with!” Patton responded, relaxing back into their gentle grooming. His eyes closing and releasing a deep breath. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah we’ve got to try something! No offense Padre, as much as I adore your fanciful feathers, there’s only so much my heart can take!” Roman sighed. The amount of times they had all come downstairs to see an explosion of feathers coating the common room and leaving a trail into the kitchen. They all had the scare of thinking that Patton had been attacked far, far, too often. He had the largest wings by far (”All the better to hug with!”) and every year they all forgot just how many feathers that made them up. 

Grooming day was something that they had been doing for so long that none of them could remember when it had started. They’d take it in turns to lie down on a blanket while the other two groomed a wing each. Maybe a film would be playing in the background or maybe they’d listen to music while gently singing along. Grooming day was just an excuse to have a quiet sweet day to themselves. No effort to talk or hash out issues. Just quiet relaxing grooming. While Logan and Roman denied loving it so much, they always made sure to circle their calendars with obnoxious obvious stickers and highlighters for the day. 

They had offered once to help him groom. It wasn’t long after he started to live with the light sides. It was Logan surprisingly while Roman was sitting there with Patton pulling a face. Patton himself just kept facing the film they were watching. No reaction. No smile. The insecurity of not properly knowing the others plus the clear reluctance of the others all allowed his anger to erupt. A snarky quip was already on his lips but Patton’s effort to keep neutral threw him over the edge violently. Virgil ended up snapping at them. Screaming at them. He even threatened to pull Logan’s feathers out… 

He could hardly blame them for quietly never mentioning it again. 

He reacted so harshly that he couldn’t exactly go back on what he said. He had planted the seeds, he can’t complain at what has grown from that. That interaction never left him alone. A thought always simmering on the back burner. He’d lost hours of his life picturing how on earth he could apologise. He was yet to create a scenario where they would accept that apology. Pulling out feathers was a line that people didn’t cross. 

Without looking, he grabbed a cereal bar and tried to maintain his breathing as he walked back up the stairs. That was surely enough conversation…

“Virgil? Do you mind doing us a favour and grabbing a warm flannel?” Logan raised his voice after him. 

“Oh!” Patton whined out, the sound dragging out. Roman’s pure velvet red wings twitched in sympathy but he merely chuckled. 

“It crucial that this is seen to, I wouldn’t insist this if it wasn’t needed.”

“Yeah,” Virgil kept his tone carefully neutral. He was glad he did wrap up his wings, they’d be dragging on the floor otherwise. Grabbing the flannel and wetting it, he tried to be quick in passing it to Logan and running away again. 

But his eyes caught on Logan’s own wings. A dark almost black blue on the outside with a more vibrant deep blue on the inside. His was the second largest (don’t let that undermine Patton’s though! Patton’s wings towered over all of them easily) but the colour made them seem larger. Virgil swore that the outside colour was so dark that it made light bend to its will. He kept them folded neatly against his back like he was a marching soldier and so when he did stretch them out, everyone found their gazes magnetised to them. They were stretched out now. Roman looked at them with so much pride that you would think they were his own wings. 

He walked away calmly and not panicky at all so quickly that he didn’t hear Logan’s ‘thank you’. 

Right. Okay. That was… a thing. A horrible thing. But the plan was still going strong. Virgil’s thoughts now felt just as messy as his wings. But he had to keep going. Right, he relaxed, he went down stairs and even had a conversation. Now he just had to groom himself the best he could manage. He sat at his own desk. A small desk mirror mercilessly showed just how tired he was and how hard he was panting. Right. Plan! 

Stretching his left wing out, he gingerly curled it so it rested near the desk. Okay, so go. Groom it. Simple. Anyone could do it. 

Just go. 

Virgil let out a watery laugh. Where to begin! It was easier to start at the tips of the wing so surely that was most logical. They looked… straight enough? Stretching the wing out again, he spent a good five minutes carefully angling the mirror to see if the feathers were aligned straight. They were a tad wonky. Finally he curled it back to him and actually touched his wing. Only to shudder. 

It was disgusting. Greasy feathers clumped all together. Moving that one feather moved his entire wing tip. His leg was now thundering away under the desk. Gritting his teeth harder, he simply wiped at each feather and used a tissue to remove any dust from his fingers. There was no point trying to truly groom if the wings were just plain dirty. Virgil finally was feeling a bit better once he got into a rhythm. Sure it was slow going and the cramps were starting to set in but he wasn’t even pulling away that much gunk! Maybe this was as easy and simple as everyone told him it was. The pain was still an ever present shadow but just the act of going through his feathers methodically felt like a weight lifted. He was doing something. The problem would soon to be gone! Surely…

It was during this rush that he caught another look in the mirror. He was halfway up his wing. The feathers looked revolting. There was a clear divide between the untouched already gross part and the now slickened wet looking feathers he had clearly rubbed the grease into. He gagged. Okay. 

This was still in the plan. He was just dirty. That was an easy fix with a good shower. Virgil didn’t even think. He saw Patton be groomed with wet flannels so what was the difference! Surely even the pressure would knock loose any shedding feathers. It didn’t hit him why he had always showered with his wings hanging out the door. He thought he was just quirky. The idea that that’s how absolutely everyone showered never crossed his mind. 

The shower spat the buckets of water down his back and Virgil stood there shuddering. The… feeling itself was revolting. Like nails on a chalkboard. Like banging your teeth against a glass. Like taking that first bite into something you immediately hated. 

The water partially rolled down his wings, the oily feathers keeping up their water proofness. But there were patches were the water soaked them. Clumps of feathers now glued together with heavy water. If the weight of his wings bothered him before then it was nothing compared to feeling them waterlogged. 

Finally springing from the shower, he stood there uselessly staring in horror at the running water. It was a shower! But yet his wings already itched with the water seeping down to the other dry feathers. “Oh come on!” Virgil pleaded in a childish tone. Chin wobbling frantically as he made his way back to his desk. 

Maybe it was just better to groom them and then worry about the dirt. Maybe the dust and gunk would be knocked loose with his grooming! That seems… logical? 

This time he didn’t try to jump into it. He used the mirror to firmly inspect every inch of his wings. He paused at the mat forming exactly in the middle of the backs of his wings. Clearly where his jumper rubbed the most when he hid them. 

He tried. Honestly! He had never had to groom himself before. As a child, of course, he paid no attention to his wings at all. It was usually Janus who would snap and make him sit as he made his wings look uniform again. At that point it was too much a habit for either of them to stop. Plus, it was easier to have someone else groom you entirely! Virgil had never really tried by himself. They made it look so easy. It wasn’t even like Virgil had groomed them. Janus was always the first to notice when someone’s wings were getting gross. 

The mat stayed compressed. No amount of careful poking or harsh digging even changed its shape. It didn’t even look like it was even made out of feathers! Just a compounded chunk of black fluff. Now tears were running down his face. He dug harder. Maybe the angle was off and he wasn’t able to properly get it. His joints creaked under the pressure to twist his wing further. The pain a throbbing ache. His nails only pulled away slight tufts of fluff. 

“Oh come on!” Virgil growled out. He grabbed the scissors sitting in his draw. He pulled the clump away from his skin. Snip. It hit the floor with a thud. 

A patch of bare chicken looking skin glared back at him. An almost perfectly circular hole the size of his fist in his wings. His next moult wasn’t until a month away. There was no sign of any new feathers that were growing in. Virgil only just remembered to stifle the wail that erupted from him. 

Screw plans! Plans didn’t work. They never did! Anything could be happening. There was no way he could have predicted the other’s grooming. He couldn’t predict that his wings would ache just at the sight of Logan’s wings or Patton’s relaxed wings. No one told him that water sucks on the wings! Everything was out of his control! No plan could have ever solved that. Clearly Logan was wrong; plans suck! 

He should just be like Roman, act in the spur of the moment and let his emotions and hopes lead him to the right place. 

Right now… Virgil’s hopes was that someone would help him with his wings. That he too could lie down somewhere and have someone else carefully sort out his feathers. His biggest hope was that the pain was just due to how bad they were rather than any actual injury. Oh and that there wouldn’t be any judgement or ‘ew’s from how disgusting they were. No words would be said about his new bald spot. Roman wouldn’t laugh. Patton wouldn’t sigh or tut. He would be falling asleep on his bed, burying his face into his covers, as gentle hands smoothed his feathers and the aches dissolved into a settled warmth. He could practically feel it. Which made the twinges of pain and the frantic trembles shaking them feel so, so much worse. 

While Janus had never liked to make a big deal out of grooming, seeing it more like a chore, maybe he could hope that Janus would like to groom his wings again. He was good it at! Maybe he could even fix the… hole.

Virgil took a second to focus before sinking down. Shutting out all the worries screaming at him that Janus will kick him out and be angry, Virgil took steadying breaths. Not quite remembering his own counting breaths techniques. But hopes weren’t supposed to let anxiety keep them down. 

Janus’ room was always a little disorientating. It looked like he had just rose up in Thomas’ house. The others’ rooms at least had different lighting, different possessions, different decorations. But Janus’ was an exact copy. It suited him. 

Sitting at his desk, Janus kept his head in his hands and stared intently at the wooden desk. “Um, h-hi Jan,” Virgil winced at that. Jan. Jan? He has never called Janus Jan! Jan! He schooled his face while trying to keep the flickering vision of his hopes alive, “A-are you- um If you’re not too busy…” 

“What Virgil?” Janus’ wings tightened against the back of the chair. They were brown with honey yellow speckles throughout. While he usually held them tightly and neatly, like Logan, today the were completely rigid. Like they were made from stiff wood. 

“Um! Well… I am wondering, if you’re not busy! I mean, well, I already said that,” Virgil nervously chuckled. The short answer and Janus still refusing to even move to face him, it all added up to a solid no. He practically didn’t need to ask. 

“Virgil, what do you want? While true I’m not very busy, unless it’s serious then I really would rather be by myself today,” Janus sighed. 

“Okay, don’t worry! I’m fine!” Virgil squeaked before he ducked out. 

The second he was back, he viciously ripped off his jacket and flung his wings out to the side. Only to immediately gasp and crumple to the floor. The ache turned into a stabbing pain. Okay, quick movements weren’t helping. Obviously. 

Virgil slumped over to his bed. Despite the messy feathers grating on him, he murmured over and over to himself. 

“It isn’t that bad. It’s just the pain making me feel worse. They don’t even look that bad.” 

He could manage. 

It was three long months until those phrases finally stopped working. The pain was unbearable. Virgil had gagged the last time he had properly looked at his wings, a month ago. 

Patton’s moult had driven him insane. The common room felt like enemy territory. Again. They were shoving it in his face. Roman’s wings would flap in sympathy anytime Patton scratched harshly at his wings. Logan would massage around the base of the wings while Patton melted into a puddle on to the floor. Roman would pick up the feathers and create quills to write with from them. 

Virgil kept his head down. His wings folded up against his back as usual. The soft firm fabric of his jumpers were almost relieving at first. A cool solid weight that would turn into a warm hug for his wings. But now it felt like someone cramming a hand the wrong way through his feathers. He would have to grit his teeth and pant before he could pull his jumper properly over his wings. It was a daily ordeal that made him feel nauseous just at the thought. He dreaded waking up every day knowing that that was what was waiting for him. Every start of the day was now ruined. Once a day starts off bad then there’s no saving it. 

Janus never asked him about that day again. Never asked why he even came into his room, or what he was going to ask or why he was so nervous. Virgil just guessed he forgot. He ran into him lots of times since then but he never even looked confused or like he was going to ask him anything. Virgil wasn’t going to be awkward and ask again. He got his answer.

Everyone knew something was wrong. You’d have to be blind not to see it. 

Virgil was fidgeting so much that he could barely stand up on his own. His wings had even lashed out underneath his jacket- a sign that the wings were being stumped or improperly cared for, as Logan noted. Patton no longer asked Virgil to stop leaning or rubbing his back against door handles. If he needed relief then he wasn’t going to fight against that. Plus, Patton wasn’t even sure he was even aware of it. Any time he paused he seemed to gravitate towards a sharp corner to scratch his back on. Roman stopped mentioning his wings in his usual gloating speech. It wasn’t fun to gloat when Virgil seemed to shut down at every mention. They all even had an evening where they all quietly discussed how they could help Virgil. “He probably only has nits or something,” Roman said and made a big deal out of shuddering in disgust. He didn’t believe his own words. None of them did, it was just easier. 

“Logan?” 

“Well, I don’t know. His symptoms are increased itchiness, increased irritability, increased anxiety, decreased hunger, interrupted sleep and lashing out wings. It could mean a variety of things, all of which he needs to seek help for. It doesn’t matter what’s wrong, it’s getting him to open up enough to allow that help.”

“Easier said than done,” Roman muttered, slumping over. 

“He could have changed his mind! I just don’t see why we can’t simply ask!” Patton reasoned, his face seemed stuck in that concerned tearful frown.

“Regardless of the last time we asked, if the issue is enough that he can’t stand it when Roman even talks about wings in general, then I’m positive that he’ll only lash out again.”

_“Virge, I’m sorry if this is personal but… y-you’re really worrying me, kiddo! Are you okay? You look like you’re hurting,” Patton had asked the second he caught Virgil alone. A feat considered how little time he now spent outside of his room._

_“Nothing you can help with.” He didn’t even hesitate. Didn’t flinch. No strong emotion and didn’t even look up._

They had all had similar conversations since with the same response. 

Three long months was what it took for Virgil to finally fall apart. 

He tried to wake up. Only to feel his vision go fuzzy and his hearing fade out. Passing out before he could even properly wake up. The pain engulfed him completely. His wings seemed to weigh heavy and his spine creaked like it was about to snap. He had lost the ability to feel individual messy feathers awhile ago. It felt like one big disgusting problem. Once he could finally wake up, tears pricked at his eyes and the air was swiftly punched from his lungs. 

Virgil surrendered to the pain. 

Curling tightly into a ball, he allowed his wings to violently twitch as he cried. It wasn’t a panic attack- gulping breaths that still made it feel like he was choking. This was just giving up. Sobs punched from his chest without any control. His breaths wheezy. Everything sucked. It hurts, nothing works, seeing the others’ be alright sucked and now it felt scary. He didn’t even think to muffle his cries. He just let out his wailing sobs. 

“Kiddo, do you mind chasing after Virge?” Patton smiled as he dished up another plate of pancakes. He worried his bottom lip but he also recognised how easily he babied him. He’d probably just ask about his wings again and upset him. It was best to send someone else, he’d just surround and baby him again. No one could say he wasn’t making an effort to make him comfortable.

“No problem! I shall gather our wayward knight!” Roman dramatically gasped as he bounced himself up from the sofa. His finger pointed high like he was promising himself to this arduous task. 

He was flouncing up the stairs, but he halted everything as he heard the obvious sobbing. 

“Patton! Logan!” Roman called without a thought and ran up to his door. His thoughts finally slowing enough to think as he heard their thundering footsteps up the stairs, “Virgil’s hurt!” 

“No!” Virgil meant for the word to stop them all. To stop Patton and Logan from running up the stairs and stop Roman from walking in. He meant it to sound firm. But it sounded pathetically childish. It sounded more like a whine than a command. It was he last chance to stop them looking at the disgrace of his wings. That was his last chance. 

“Virgil, may we come in?” Logan asked.

“Virge please! I promise that whatever it is, we can help you deal with it! Nothing could scare us away! Please, can we come in?” Patton panted, “Please…”

Virgil scrunched up under his covers and just let his tears keep coming. They would never let it go now. Might as well let them in, at least he got a say in letting them in. The pain made everything feel fuzzy. Like there was nothing he could do to focus. He needed help, this was beyond him. 

Logan walked in first with Patton peering over his shoulder.

Virgil was curled under his covers with only his hair peeking out of the covers. His wings were clearly twitching under the covers, Logan winced seeing the painful spasms visible even under thick covers. The room was cloaked in its usual darkness but this time it felt like Virgil was melting into the background. 

“I’m going to move the covers, Virgil,” Logan soothed and left his hands resting on the top of the covers, near his shoulders. He waited for a few seconds before finally pulling back. 

“Oh, Virge…” Patton deflated. In his opinion, Virgil’s wings were the most mesmerising. At first glance they were a sheer black. A void moulded into wings. But a closer look showed they were iridescent. Purples, blues and sometimes streaks of red glinting across ruffled wide feathers. Patton just loved how they looked different at each glance. They were beautiful. Now, they were dulled into a grey black. Completely dulled. Virgil only whined in response and kept his face hidden under his hands and buried firmly into his pillow. 

“I know this will be stressful, however, we’ll need to move you into the common room. W-we can’t stay in here for too long and you require extensi- I want to be thorough.”

“I can grab him.” Roman offered and finally approached the bed. Patton kept his distance with his hands slapped over his mouth.

“Is that okay, Virge?” 

“…everything hurts,” Virgil whimpered. 

“I know, I know. Deep breaths now,” Roman muttered before picking him up bridal style. None of them could react in time. He stiffened before going loose. The pain screeching at him before his vision fuzzed out completely. Patton cooed over him, smoothing the bangs from his forehead, and frantically steered Roman down the stairs. Logan followed with no expression. 

He wasn’t out long. But it was long enough that he had been laid out in their grooming day set up. Virgil was laying just like Patton was for his grooming, only there was an entire nest surrounding him. Pillows and blankets elegantly laid out with even a scented candle burning on the coffee table. The common room almost looked like a spa with the amount of cloths and bowls laid out around them. Quiet classical music drifted through the room, too quiet to really pay attention to. 

“Heya kiddo! We’re about to start. Do you want us to start anywhere in particular?” Patton whispered, laying down on his side in front of him. Virgil almost laughed seeing his curls flop down over his face and his glasses skewed. 

“Uh…” Virgil took all his focus to even open his mouth. Groans and gasps dying to come out. Words felt like too much. He tried to form the words, mouth the syllables, but merely sat there gasping uselessly. 

“That’s okay! Why not just let us focus on getting you better. We’re…” Patton drifted off and traded looks with the other sides. Logan shrugged with his panic finally shining through his eyes. Roman had a determined smile set painfully on his face. Patton took whatever comfort he could from that, “We’re not sure how to go about this. Logan is trying to soak parts of the wing to loosen everything up while Roman is going to use a flannel. We’ll have to figure out which one works best! Just… sit tight.” 

“No…” Virgil moaned but all of his energy was being spent on keeping awake. 

“It’ll be alright Virgil. It’s more the temperature of the water that will help rather than the soak itself. Your muscles are overworked and so a warm soak will help you relax while also allowing us to hopefully clean your feathers. Everything will be carefully dried afterwards. As Patton said… sit tight and keep breathing.”

Logan immediately jumped into the work, massaging his wingtip that was settled into a bowl of water. The feathers still felt grossly waterlogged but the warmth seeping through to his skin did feel like a relief. A heavy warm weight over his wingtips. Roman hesitated but with a final glance from Patton, he finally pressed the hot flannel against a patch of wing. Pressing firmly, he started to massage the area hoping things will loosen up but also Virgil would relax that bit more. His entire being was tightly tensed like he was preparing for a great battle he didn’t expect to make it out of. 

The major problem was the tangles of feathers. His moult had did very little favour to the wings. Mats got bigger with the loosened feathers remaining trapped and his newer feathers had then grown in squished. They all wanted to try and untangle the mats instead of bluntly cutting them out and waiting until the next moult. But they were trying to prepare for everything and so the scissors sat beside them anyway. The plan was to groom as best as they could before then washing the wings and then maybe grooming again to coat them in oil. Logan already prepared them that this would most likely be an all day task. Patton and Roman didn’t flinch. 

Roman peeled away the flannel once the heat had finally dissipated. The patch was now soggy but the wing muscle did seem more relaxed. He deliberately chose a patch near a weird looking dip in his wings. It gave him the chance to really dig into the patch and start doing large patches rather than the just wing tips. Of course he wasn’t trying to speed through this but he couldn’t imagine laying on the floor all day was particularly comfortable. 

Sucking in a breath, he started to prise away the feathers until he could finally see the muscle. He didn’t hesitate knowing that if he did then he would never do it. He plucked away any feathers that were loose. A few feathers came free easily but there was still a noticeable lump of feathery fluff. Using the quill of those pulled feathers, he started to separate what were the newer feathers growing weird and ones that needed to be pulled.

Virgil gasped at this and launched a hand forward to Patton. He scooped up his hand and pressed it close to his chest. “Shh… You’re okay. We’re just getting started. I’ll protect you. Roman’s just grooming that bit,” Patton whispered while looking blankly at the wall across from him. Everything about his posture was relaxed while his face was stiffly set in a frown. Logan coughed to grab his attention. Patton winced as he gestured that he was going to start too. “You’re okay. I’ve got you kiddo…”

Logan was quicker than Roman’s slow methodical grooming. He had time to scope out which were the newer feathers while the tip was soaking. Plucking along the end of the wing like a practised farmer harvesting, he showed no mercy in yanking away feathers. His gaze was entirely fixated on the wing in his lap. The other was carefully rubbing away the trail of pain he was causing. 

Now, it wasn’t that painful. Virgil deep down knew that. It hurt the same as popping a spot, it sucks but not some deep horrible pain. Maybe the occasional feather made him gasp but that wasn’t often. 

But his wings still ached. the mats pressed heavily against awkward parts of the wing and the shaky pain was still absolutely present. Virgil gave out an embarrassing whine before burrowing away in his arms. Patton patted his head with a sad smile before going to help Logan. 

They had continued for an hour before the wings were really starting to shape up. The had almost halved in size and Virgil was starting to get worked up again. His breaths kept shaking and his chest tightened and tightened. But it was at this point that Janus and Remus happily rambled as they walked down the stairs. They didn’t freeze at the sight of what looked like a typical grooming day. Janus even went into the kitchen but Remus paused before then realising. “Hey? Everything alright? Because this really doesn’t look good?” There was piles and piles of teared feathers and chunks of fluff. Virgil seemed close to a panic attack with tear tracks from his last still visible. The other three looked tense but focused. 

“Hello Remus,” Logan greeted once it became clear the others weren’t saying anything, “Virgil has had some trouble with his wings and we’re helping him. He will be okay given time.”

“Given time? He looks like shit! What the hell did you do to them, huh Emo? I don’t even think I could do this to a pair of wings and I’m me!” 

“Okay now. That’s enough.” Patton sat up properly with a burning glare. Remus held his hands up in a surrender.

“Did you not groom them Virge?” Janus now walked over but ignored the others. He knelt down beside Virgil’s head but faced away from him. 

“No. Couldn’t do it…” Virgil muttered angrily. At this, the light sides all perked up with the ministrations slowing. Janus wasn’t surprised. His brows furrowed but he made sure to smooth them away and keep looking neutral. 

“Couldn’t do it… That’s fair enough but why didn’t you just grab us?” Patton weakly asked. 

“I tried. But you were busy and… uh,” Virgil stopped but pushed himself up so he was at least looking upward at them all. Patton’s eyes were blown wide and his hands played with his cardigan. Roman and Logan gave the same look of exhausted determination. Roman’s very presence seemed almost dimmed with this. He bit harshly at his lip without thinking, “I’m so sorry… I- Sorry for what I said. Y’know, awhile ago now I guess but th-that doesn’t make it okay. To uh say or think that. And I don’t! I just. I’m sorry I snapped at you all for offering to help my with my wings. I said stuff way out of line and that should never have happened. I’m sorry.” 

“Virge, that’s okay! I know you didn’t mean it!” Patton lurched forward and ruffled his hair but Virgil shook him off. 

“No, it’s really not! I did mean it at the time. And that’s horrible! And now here you all are helping anyway… Just because I couldn’t stupidly groom my own stupid wings! It can’t b-” 

“Virgil.” Logan awkwardly leaped over the stretched out wings and sat down heavily beside Janus, “It’s okay. We forgive you of saying those things. Yes it was harsh but you meant them to be harsh so we’ll leave you alone. We offered once before and our offer still stands. Even if you turn us down at the time, that doesn’t mean that was your one chance for a helping hand. You’ve presumed that one conversation stands for the rest of time. It doesn’t.”

Virgil at this point had started weeping again. “I’m so sorry. If I had just asked you then none of this would’ve happened! Well maybe if I could just fucking groom myself then… But I’ve stolen your day and that’s… that’s not fair to you lot! I don’t…” 

“You’re okay. You haven’t stolen anything from us. Yes, asking for help could’ve prevented this but there’s no use thinking about ‘what ifs’ when we’re here already. We’ve got you and we always will,” Logan said. 

Janus automatically laid him back down but in his lap this time. Remus threw himself into the middle to start instructing the other’s on how Virgil liked being groomed. He shuddered when he felt Patton copy Remus’ movements against his joints. He deliberately steadied his breaths and prepared for their actual washing. 

They had groomed and now Logan was steering everyone into actually washing the wings. Virgil whitened at that but made no noise and lowered back down. He trusted Logan to already know that showers felt abhorrent. Armed with hot flannels, Roman and Remus were in charge of wetting the wings while the rest of them would massage the soap in. Patton had demanded they use his own fancy banana scented soap and Logan agreed once he saw Virgil laugh at how fussy Patton sounded. Roman was good at seeing when soap needed to be washed away and Remus focused on making his way up the wing. 

The horrible waterlogged feeling never truly came, to Virgil’s surprise. Admittedly, damp wings didn’t feel that nice but the massaging soap felt amazing. He completely forgot how much he loved feeling a firm massage against his wing joints. They were always constantly aching from being crammed into his jumper. Virgil would be purring if he was able to.

It was only then did he realise that they had spent literal hours working through greasy disgusting feathers. Maybe the soak had washed some of it away, he hoped but turning his head revealed otherwise. His feathers had a smeared look about them. Still dulled from their usual shine. He whipped his head around his shoulder to apologise but…

His eyes caught on them. Janus and Remus were quietly chattering away to each other with their relaxed smiles. Roman was trying to get away with splashing Logan every time he went back to the bowl of water. Patton kept a fond eye on him. None looked disgusted. None gagged. They all just got on with it. Mesmerised, he kept looking over despite how his neck twinged. His mouth slid shut.

None of them said a word before grooming them again. The final part was more a relaxation thing than a necessary part of grooming. They weren’t water birds, they didn’t need completely waterproof wings but it always felt nice to brush through your feathers again. They all smoothed the oil into the wings, all the little nooks and crannies, with a careful pressure. The weight from all of their shoulders now lifted. They were mostly done. His wings were okay. Logan noted proudly that they weren’t thrashing or twitching as they were when they first started. They were still tensed but that would fade after a few days of care. He almost had to keep reminding himself that Virgil was okay. His wings were going to be okay. Everything is okay. 

But it was actually another two hours before everyone finally stopped. “Hey kiddo, do you wanna try standing up?”

“It’s hard to tell if the wings have been groomed equally when laying down,” Logan muttered with a fist in front of his mouth. Quite frankly, even he was cramping up from leaning over Virgil for the past morning. Virgil stood and immediately felt his shoulders shrug loose. Instinctually, he flapped hard with his wings and moaned in relief at feeling how light and nice they felt. Like coming home after a long day running around and shrugging off a thick winter’s coat. His feathers now actually moved and slotted next to each other! He blushed once he looked back at the others. 

“Sorry. That probably ruined all you work…” 

“It’s no problem Bird Brain,” Roman chuckled.

Logan smiled as he quietly called it done. The wings were now their shiny selves. Of course it would take maybe a couple of moults before the wings’ shape was corrected but it wasn’t bad right now. The wings were clearly a case of looking worse than they actually were. Not that that excuses the neglect but it was a relief. They had moved Virgil over the sofa when they stopped for a lunch break and Roman had demanded he needed ‘Virgie Snuggles’. At least Virgil had fallen asleep before he could hear that. The feathers were all fluffed and now waterproof. The job was done. Virgil was indeed okay. 

Logan was prepared to launch into a whole speech about how they can implement a plan to ensure this won’t happen again but Patton’s quiet voice interrupted his thoughts. “I’ve got you Virge,” Patton whispered with a wowed determination ingrained in his voice as he petted through the sleeping side’s hair. It croaked from not talking for hours. But it got the message across. 

This would never occur again. 


End file.
